


The Long Road Home

by Sagartolen



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Crossover, Dimension Travel, Ed just wants to see Al again, Edward Elric Keeps Alchemy, Gen, Illegal Activities, Light Angst, Mild Language, Organized Crime, Post-Promised Day, The Gate of Truth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagartolen/pseuds/Sagartolen
Summary: During the Promised Day confrontation, caught up in Farther's Nationwide Transmutation Circle, Edward Elric desperately attempts to disrupt the ritual, miscalculates, stumbles, and ends up stepping through his Gate of Truth.Ed ends up stranded, alone in a strange world full of strange people, with limited options.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 75





	The Long Road Home

**Author's Note:**

> ((kind of inspired by the Conqueror of Shamballa movie but Ed keeps his Alchemy))
> 
> This would probably be set a bit before the BNHA series starts and at the end of FMA: B.

Edward notices tall, dark and suspicious the moment he enters through the rickety front door into his poor excuse of an office. It wasn’t just the way his entire head was covered in a low hood, though that was mighty suspicious, no, this dude gave off some of those dangerous vibes that he would usually associate with a homunculus. The stranger's movements were slightly off, as if not quite human. Only, there was no such thing as a homunculus in this weird word. Well, not that he knew of.

“Brat! Are you listening to me!”

Ed begrudgingly turns his attention back to his irate landlord. The older man is leaning over Ed’s desk, close enough that Ed can see the numerous wrinkles pulling down his face. “You better not be skimping on our arrangement.”

“Hey,” Ed taps a finger against the wood, leaning forward so the old man is forced back at the risk of butting heads, “This whole building needs new wires …do I look like an electrician?”

That enlists an expression of acute irritation and more annoyed huffing, “Don’t get smart with me. I’ll evict your freeloading ass so fast that…”

“Oi! Our deal was that I fix the roof, get rid of that mould up on the third floor, and you set me up for the next month.”

“The _deal_ was that you handle the building’s upkeep and I put a roof over your ungrateful head.”

“Just because I can fix up some rotting floorboards doesn’t mean I’m an expert electrician… how about you go hire a person with qualifications while I get on with my day job.” He smacks his hand on the table for emphasis, motioning at tall, dark, and mysterious waiting a few steps behind the older man. Technically, he could probably figure out how to fix the building’s faulty wiring with alchemy but there was no way he was getting suckered into helping his grumpy scam artists of a landlord any more than was promised.

To his credit, the old coot takes one look at the shadowy figure and decides to put any further complaints on hold. 

“I’ll be back. This ain't over,” is grumbled at Ed as the man makes his exit, skirting around the larger stranger with a healthy amount of apprehension.

“Don’t do me any favours!” Ed snaps after him, rubbing his forehead before eyeing his potential customer. The location where he has set up shop isn’t the most affluent or safe so, for all he knew, this weirdo was about to rob him. Not that he had much to steal. He had arrived in this world with nothing and, four months later, he still has barely enough to feed himself on the regular. Not when he is pumping any money he earns into his search to get home.

“Ah…sorry about that,” He squints, trying to see under the stranger’s hood and is met with only darkness. It almost looks like the other man is made of purple smoke. It’s unsettling. No doubt the by-product of some more weird quirk bullshit. Ed tries to keep his tone as polite as possible. “You came to get something fixed right?”

“It has been reported that you can repair anything?” The question is asked with little inflection. Almost toneless. Hopefully, this is a customer and not a cop trying to bust him for illegal quirk usage…great.

“Sure,” He puts on his fakest of smiles, channels his inner Ling, and launches into his best sales pitch, “I have a reconstruction quirk…as long as most of the pieces are present, I can put it back together.”

“…and does that extend to construction and building work?”

“Ah,” The stranger didn’t appear to be carrying anything substantial on him so the object in need of fixing was probably located elsewhere, “what the hell do you need fixed?”

There’s no response to his question and Ed crosses his arms, “I can’t do anything high-tech, too many intricate moving parts, but building construction is fine as long as the materials are all there and I have time to plan. Might take me a few goes depending on the scale. It will cost you extra as well. I’ll have to see it to be sure of the exact price.” He rattles off his fake quirk limitations with practised ease. In a world filled with nonsensical abilities, his alchemy fit right in. 

The tall man thinks for a moment, leaving Ed to ponder the strange nature of the request. This is the first time he has been asked to do building work, usually, people wanted more mundane repairs like fixing furniture or jewellery.

“Acceptable,” comes the abrupt response, “My employer requires some discrete building installation and repair, basic reconstruction, shelving, wall-fittings, construction. All onsite work.”

“That’ll be pretty expensive….” Ed answers slowly, “and time-consuming.”

“All materials will be provided. The price will not be an issue.”

“Okay…” Ed narrows his eyes, examining the figure, but the shadows give nothing away. “Where exactly is this job?”

“Transport to the site will be arranged.”

As if to emphasis the statement, Tall-Dark-And-Smokey raises a hand and an inky black circle appears on the wall. The sudden action has Ed half rising from his seat, preparing to attack or defend. A beat passes and nothing happens.

“The mode of transport,” Tall-Dark-And-Smokey explains, motioning to the black circle. It is a quirk effect, obviously something to do with travel. Ed relaxes but remains standing. Is it just him or does the guy sound partly amused as his obvious unease? He carefully extracts himself from behind his crowded desk to step around and take a closer look.

“So I just step in that and hope you’re not about to screw me over.” He folds his arms, more irritated now.

“Your caution is understandable,” The purple circle fluctuates, undulating, and Tall-Dark-And-Smokey puts a hand inside his jacket pocket. Ed tenses again, ready to clap his hands together, relaxing only when he sees the stranger produce a white envelope. In a deliberately slow movement, the envelope is placed atop the uneven stack of books Ed has piled near the door. Ed once again gets the sense that the other man is amused.

“Consider this a sign of goodwill and proof of our willingness to pay whatever needed,” The man tugs his hood, so it further hides his non-existent face. “Think it over. I will come by later for a response.”

Tall-Dark-And-Smokey steps into the swirling circle which shrinks, disappearing completely.

“Later? When the hell is later supposed to be?” Ed snaps at the empty room.

“Tch,” He glares at the wall and its peeling white paint. What a weird unsettling guy. Suspicious as all hell.

So far Ed’s stay in this universe hadn’t exactly been smooth. He had arrived in a building collapsing around him, later revealed to be a fight between one of this world's 'heroes’ and ‘villains,’ mentally and physically exhausted from his sudden trip through the Truth’s Gate. From there it had been touch and go as he tried to find his footing, not get accidentally killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and avoid getting himself arrested for not having identification or a quirk licence which was apparently a pretty big deal in this word. With his poor track record, he is tempted to just pack up and not getting involved with Tall-Dark-And-Smokey. 

Only…

“A teleportation quirk…” He mutters, examining the wall more thoroughly and finding nothing out of place. It is the first time he has come across an ability like this. Against his better judgment, curiosity takes root. How far could it teleport? What were the conditions? Did it consume energy? What sort of energy and how much? What were the limitations? A lot of these weird abilities, quirks, had just as weird limitations.

Maybe this was the breakthrough he needed.

Ed’s alchemical research into escaping this world had long been stalled upon the realisation that the only way back to Amestris would be the same way he had left. Through the Gate of Truth. It would require an alchemy array the size of a small city and a sacrifice akin to a thousand human souls…possibly more…He hadn’t had the heart to make the exact calculations. There was no point in calculating the exact number of deaths required for him see his brother again. It wasn’t an option so he wasn't entertaining it. However, if he could somehow bypass the Gate, maybe by using some sort of quirk, then perhaps there was still hope for him. Teleportation had been one of the ones he had been on the lookout for.

Ed clenches his metal fist, reaching for the envelope with the other, hoping for a distraction. He almost expects it to be some sort of scam. Instead, he is meant with a stack of the place’s currency, neatly bound together.

It is a lot of money.

He stares in disbelief, slowly pulling out the bills and running his finger over them. It is more money than all his repair jobs and his periodic pawning of ‘family heirlooms’ have made him since coming here. With this, he would be able to pay actual rent and any other bills for the next month and then the month after. Heck, he’d be able to buy himself some decent meals, a new computer and a better phone on top of that.

Ed shoves the money back in the envelope and lets out a long, frustrated breath. There had to be a catch. No one just gave away this sort of money without reason. Not in the shithole of an area he’d set himself up in. Who the hell was willing to just throw money at someone to build goodwill? It sounded like the sort of suspicious behaviour that, had he encountered it on one of his missions, he would have reported it back to Mustang for further investigation. Not like he can just report stuff here, not without bringing unwanted scrutiny.

Ordinarily, Ed would have scoffed and refused the obviously illegal work. However, a quirk was one of his best chances of getting home. Maybe, if he accepted this work, he could bargain for information on the guy's teleportation ability. Not like he hadn’t done other illegal things since arriving here.

What would Alphonse say? Al was always better at reading people. Maybe he would tell him not to get involved with shady types? Or maybe he would say that Ed was too paranoid and he should give them a chance. Then again, his brother might caution him against it and tell him it was his duty to send in an anonymous tip to the nearest police station. Probably the last one. God damnit he misses Al. Ed stuffs the envelope into his shoulder bag, the one containing a portable automail maintenance kit and encoded alchemy notebooks.

Next, he is pulling on his signature coat, coloured grey instead of bright red because red stood out and as much as he hated it, he needed to keep a low profile. Ed shuffles out of his makeshift shop, turning to lock the door. He needed more information and his four months in this world hadn’t left him entirely without contacts.

**Author's Note:**

> Because someone needs to build, repair and maintain all those laboratories/hideouts that the League of Villians operates. 
> 
> Anyway, don't have a concrete plan for this so if there are any suggestions feel free to give them.


End file.
